No One Dreams Anyway
by M83
Summary: Nobody seems to know why he has been acting so strangely recently. Even he doesn’t understand it. The question is... does he want to know the truth behind his odd behavior? Jimmy Fic!
1. Beauty in Sinking Ships

Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi: The Next Generation, its characters, or any other paraphernalia involved. This fan fiction was written for entertainment purposes only, and no copyright infringement is intended. I also don't own the rights to the delightful **K**ill **H**annah songs that always seem to appear as my titles. Is obsession spelled with two S's or three?

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Author's Note: Woo hoo! I finally got me a new story! Hopefully I'll be able to finish this one... I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes. My beta [little brother] refuses to talk to me anymore.

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Bren Eldrid Bera presents...   
No One Dreams Anyway

Chapter One 

          He sat on the living room floor of his parent's posh three-bedroom, two and a half bath apartment, holding a remote in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. Scattered around him was an absolute mess. Sports magazines featuring famous basketball and hockey players on the covers, CDs, spiral notebooks, and random articles of clothing were among the clutter. Empty soda cans and chip bags decorated a side table next to the couch where a guitar lay. 

          The teen, who sat in the middle of it all, didn't notice the disorder. He was absentmindedly flipping through TV channels with the remote, but he wasn't really paying attention to what flashed across the screen, either. His mind was focused on the elegant writing that made up a note:

          _Jimmy,_

          _I have to work late at the office tonight, I'm not sure if I'll be able to come home. There's money on the counter for takeout, or there's leftovers in the fridge. You should probably call your father sometime around eight; __Vancouver__ is on Pacific Standard. You'll probably catch him just before he leaves the hotel. Try not to stay up too late studying for that geometry test. I'm sure you'll do fine._

_                   Love Mom_

          He had the apartment to himself for the night. That was what...? The third, fourth time this week? Jimmy didn't know and frankly, he was starting not to care anymore. Why waste time worrying over something he could never change? 

          His father could spend the rest of his life in Vancouver on some "business trip" for all he cared. The only thing he didn't like was the lying. He _knew _that his father was having an affair. He _knew_ his father was involved with his secretary, an uptight practical woman who Jimmy didn't care for, or wouldn't even if she wasn't having intercourse with his Dad. 

          And the situation with his mother wasn't any better. She spent the night at her friend Liana's apartment whenever Jimmy's father wasn't home. He honestly didn't care that his mother couldn't deal with the fact that her husband was unfaithful. Jimmy just wished they would tell the truth for once instead of leaving him a thoughtless note filled with lies.

          A sudden beeping noise cut through the silence of the near-empty apartment and his thoughts. Jimmy turned the TV to "mute" and glanced over at the kitchen. 

The oven had preheated. 

          He slowly picked himself up off the floor, leaving the remote behind. The note his mother had written him stayed in his hand until he reached a garbage can.

          Jimmy made his way over to the kitchen and opened the chrome refrigerator. Yesterday's leftovers – meatloaf – were to become tonight's dinner. He removed the plastic wrap and unceremoniously dumped the plate's contents onto a pan he had set out earlier. He opened the oven, shoved the pan in, and shut it again. 

          He noticed a few dollar bills lying on the counter near where he had found his mother's note; after further investigation, he discovered it was the pizza money. Jimmy casually pocketed the bills before leaning over to grab his backpack off the floor. He set it on the counter and, after unzipping it, pulled out his geometry textbook.

          Tomorrow's test was on transformations, a subject he knew close to nothing about. Math was just... boring. Everyday in Mr. Armstrong's desk, minutes after the bell rang, he would stare blankly at the whiteboard only to "wake up" forty minutes later realizing that he had probably missed something important. 

          Lucky for him, Hazel was willing to give him a copy of her notes after every class. The girl was a saint.

          That was what he was staring at now, the precise notes filled with sketches of various polygons that had been reflected, rotated, and transformed over an X or Y axis. He didn't have a clue what she was talking about. 

          He flipped the page over and read the first practice problem that he saw:

          _Two houses are located on a rural road 'm'. You want to place a telephone pole on the road at point 'C' so that the length of the telephone cable, AC + BC, is a minimum. Where should you locate 'C'?_

Jimmy mutely reread the passage and let out a discouraged sigh. He was definitely paying for his day-dreaming now. He stared at the paragraph and until the words started to run together. He rubbed his eyes, blinked a couple of times and went back to reading. 

          After about five minutes, he found he was still on the same problem. Jimmy finally gave up and went to work what he thought to be an easier question. 

          _Sketch an octagon with exactly two lines of symmetry._

Jimmy confidently picked up his mechanical pencil and leaned on the counter. Finally, a problem he could do! He set the lead down on the paper and started to scribble out what he thought was the answer. All of the sudden, his hand started to shake and the diagram he was drawing became a mess of random lines.

          "What the hell?" 

          They were the first words that he had spoken since he had gotten home two hours ago, and they echoed throughout the empty apartment.

          Jimmy stared at his hand; it was violently jerking around. He dropped the pencil and grabbed his shaking right hand with the left, trying to end the convulsions. 

          It wouldn't stop though. The quivering continued for about four more minutes, in which Jimmy emptily stared at his hand. He looked up and saw the room was moving. Or rather, individual objects were moving in circles. He blinked his eyes several times and he tried to will what ever the hell was wrong with him away.

          Nothing happened though. His right hand kept shaking and he started to feel dizzy. Jimmy's knees almost gave out. He grabbed the counter in an attempt to steady himself. He stared down at the white linoleum floor. He'd never noticed the winding flower pattern before... 

          Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he got better. Jimmy could see again, and the lightheaded feeling went away. His hand still trembled a little, but it was better than those earlier convulsions

          "Maybe Marco was right," he confessed to his geometry book. "Maybe I should go see a doctor..."

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Hey... if you've _actually_ seen the newer episodes and you feel up to it... could you e-mail me at darthmoth_vegeir@yahoo.com and tell me what happens? [i.e. what's the situation with Jimmy and Hazel?] Thankies!


	2. Stunt Pilots

Author's Note: Well lookie here, I didn't manage to live up to my updating schedule... big surprise. I'll try to update sooner this time. I'd help to know what you think about my story, though... even though it's in its beginning stages and the plot is rather undeterminable. Where exactly am I going with this...? 

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Chapter Two

          A timer went off, announcing that the meatloaf was cooked. Its piercing ring startled Jimmy out of his thoughts. Still staring at his right hand, he absentmindedly opened the oven and pulled out the pan. 

          A sharp burning pain ran through his "good hand" and Jimmy realized he hadn't used a hot pad. 

          He swore and dropped his meal, scattering the meatloaf all over. He went to the sink and turned the nozzle on. He closed the oven with his foot while he let the cool water run over the burn.

          The phone chose to ring at that moment. He streched over and knocked the phone out of its cradle, and after a few failed attempts –his hand was still shaking a little- he managed to hit the Speakerphone button.

          "Yeah? This is Jimmy," he said loudly. The Caller ID was too far away to see from where he was, so he didn't know who was talking to.

          "Jimmy?" a male voice hesitantly replied.

          He rolled his eyes, instantly knowing who his "mysterious caller" was, "Yeah dude, I said 'this is Jimmy'. You need to be more observant, Spin."

          "No need to get so bitchy," Spinner snapped back. "It's not my fault it's 'that time of the month' for you." 

          "Sorry, man. You just sort of caught me at a bad time."

          "Maybe I should call again later..."

          "Naw, I'm cool. So what'd you want?"

          "Hold on." 

          Jimmy heard muffled shouts and figured Spinner was probably fighting with his little sister Kendra over something stupid. Again. It could be good half hour before Spinner remembered he was on the phone with him. 

          He took this opportunity to grab a dish towel off the counter. He held it under the water for a few seconds until it was moderately soaked through. He wrapped it around his burnt fingers and then turned off the tap.

          Eying the meatloaf that was scattered on the floor, Jimmy dramatically sighed and bent down to clean it up.

          "Still there, Jim?" Spinner breathlessly asked.

          "Yep. So what's up?"

          "You know how Paige and I are in a bit of a rough spot right now over that whole 'Marco/Dylan' thing—"

          "What's this, trouble in paradise?" Jimmy sarcastically cut in. "I probably _never would have noticed _that you guys were fighting if you hadn't just pointed out that out to me."

          "Ha Ha," Spinner said. "Very funny. Look man, I'm just calling to see if you and Haz' would mind going on a double date with us Saturday night. You know, so I won't have to sit there with Paige and have my head chewed off for being such a 'thoughtless idiot'."

          "That's not what she called you in the cafeteria today. I distinctly remember hearing the word basta—"

          "Yeah, yeah. Whatever," his blond friend said dryly. "The girl has issues."

          "You know, you probably shouldn't have called her a heartless bit—"

          "So are you in or what?"

          "I don't know. I probably don't have anything better to do," Jimmy mused half to himself. "Well, what do you have in mind?"

          "Maybe a movie, I heard that new Barrymore/Sandler flick(1) was supposed to be pretty good."

          "You know I don't like movie theater popcorn."(2)

          "Fine. Dinner and a movie. How about the Dot Grill...?"

          "It's like, a date!" Jimmy brightly said with his best Valley Girl accent.

          "Dude. Shut up!"

          "Sorry," Jimmy apologized as he picked up the last bit of meatloaf. The floor was still greasy from the barbeque sauce, but he'd wipe that up later. A quick spray of 409 and the accident would be erased from both his mind and the floor. He slid over to the counter and leaned up against it,

          "I'll call Hazel and make it official then."

          "Don't bother, she'll go," Spinner replied confidently. "She's a girl—"

          "Hope so."

          "Shut up," Spinner growled. "You know how girls are. If Paige had to go on a date with a 'barbarian', she'd want to take a friend along."

          Jimmy stopped what he was doing, "Wait. Have you even asked Paige yet?"

          "Ahh... no. But I know she'll go."

          He laughed, "It didn't look like she wanted to be in the same room with you in the cafeteria at lunch today. How do you _know _that she'll agree?" 

          "Trust me, man. I have a gift. She'll be there."

          "Whatever. I have to get back to my geometry homework. Talk to you tomorrow?"

          "Yeah, sure—hey wait," he added quickly, trying to catch Jimmy before he hung up.

          "Yeah?" 

          "I know this'll probably sound dumb and you'll tell me that I'm stupid—"

          "What is it, Spin?" Jimmy impatiently asked. 

          "Don't get mad or anything. I mean, I'm probably the last person who should ask you this—"

          "Out with it."

          "Issomthingthematter?"

          "What?"

          "Is something wrong?" he asked. "Are you OK? You've been acting kind of...odd recently. I mean, not that that's wrong or anything. I know you probably don't want to hear me talking about this, but you've been like this since your dad left for Vancouver two weeks ago...or maybe it was later then that...? Anyway, you have some of us worried...and well... I don't know what to say..." His words trailed off, leaving an awkward silence between the two. (3)

          He blinked. Spinner was right. Jimmy never would have thought he would hear those words come out of his mouth,

          "Am I OK?" he questioned himself softly. He ran his hands through his hair. "I'm Jimmy Brooks. I have to be." 

          Then,

          "Yeah Spin," he told his friend, more loudly. "I'm fine. You're right. It's just my dad. I guess I miss him." It was an outright lie, but it was the only excuse he could think of at the moment. 

          "Well," Spinner started slowly; Jimmy could tell he was embarrassed. "If you want to talk about it..."

          "Nah. I'm fine. Like I said..."

          "Tomorrow then?"

          "OK, Bye."

          He waited for the audible click of Spinner's phone before getting up off the floor to hit 'end'. 

          Jimmy ran his conversation with his best friend over in his head again and again. Was he really, as Spinner had put it, acting really odd? He sighed; he had another problem to deal with now. 

          He saw his geometry textbook lying open on the other end of the counter. It was a cruel reminder that he still had a lot of studying to do. He simply glared at it.

          "I'll just copy Craig's review sheet in English and fail the test," he finally grumbled as he shuffled over to it and slammed the book shut. He went back into the living room and plopped down on the sofa. 

          The TV was still on mute. After brief consideration, he decided to leave it that way. 

          He noticed that his right hand was still trembling a little. He ignored it, as he had been doing for the past month. It would go away, eventually. It always did. What did Marco, and now Spinner, know? He was fine.

          Jimmy shut his eyes. Sleep wasn't something that came easily to him these days; every little noise or tiny light kept him awake. He pulled a pillow over his head and tried to dose off. The pillow's itchy material made him sneeze instead. 

          He groaned and sat up. Jimmy clapped his hands together twice, turning off the apartment's lights. Ahh, the joys of Clap-On Clap-Off lighting(4). He did it eight more times; just annoy the old lady who lived in the apartment building directly across the street. She always complained about everything he did... why not add another annoyance to the list? 

          When he was lying in complete darkness, save the colorful images that noiselessly flashed across the TV's screen, he stripped down to his boxers. Jimmy pulled a thin blanket that had been lying on the other end of the couch over him and rolled over so his back faced the television.

          He closed his eyes again, and this time, he started to fall asleep. As he was passing over into dreamland, a panicked thought crossed his drowsy mind. Had he turned off the oven? Jimmy's decided that he did, and fell asleep.

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(1) Fifty First Dates. (2) I think Paige originally said this, but I'm not sure. If that is so, I apologize for ripping it off. (3) Rather OOC of him, I know. (4) Don't have this, wish I did... [Insert malicious grin]

Here's where I insert my thanks to the kind reviewers...

**PsychoJo****: **Thanks for the great tip. It did help me on my quest for "rightness".****

**x**** Confused Girl x: **You know, a lot of people I talk to don't seem to like the J/H pairing. I might just have to change that!

**sevhevcracksmeup****: **thanks! I like to make my first chapters intriguing like that, before I get to the mindless dribble that is the rest of the story. I just hope it wasn't too confusing.

**matt****: **I used to be a fan of J/A too, but then I realized how wrong they were together... no, they won't be together, but like I said before... it's not necessarily going to be J/H.

**Now I must go before I give away the plot!!!**


	3. Hummingbirds the Size of Bullets

Author's Note: Yeah, this sounds lame, but I want to dedicate this chapter to my cat, Cowboy. He's having surgery right now [third time] to remove a cancerous lump that's in his side. I'm sad, so I tried to write something pretty...

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Chapter Three

_           The moon was hidden behind the gloomy rain clouds, fragmenting the rays that should have lit up the landscape in a shadowy white. The tinted windows skewed his vision even more, making the dark night seem blacker than it actually was. As the limousine slowly came to a stop in front of the house –her house- he became more and more nervous. A brief wave of nausea passed through his body as his hand reached for the limo's door._

_          He uncertainly stepped out into the night and realized it was a lot cooler than he remembered. A sudden gust of wind battered through the layers of clothing he was wearing, chilling him to the bones. He shivered and tried to pull the long dress coat his father had loaned him for the night tighter around him. He hoped she was going to wear something warm tonight. There was no logic in her catching a cold simply because she refused to wear a coat because it would wrinkle her dress._

_          Speaking of vanity... he realized he was adjusting his dark navy tie for probably the millionth time. He would admit though, he did look pretty decent. The charcoal black suit was tailor-made of course; his parents wouldn't have it any other way. It was cut to show off his toned body, without giving off the impression that he was a thug. He'd seen too many bad gangster movies to ever want to look like that -impossibly big shoulders, a thick neck, and a wicked sneer. He was getting pretty buff, ever since he had started his new fitness program, but he was no where near the size of those goons in the American movies._

_          Of course, nobody would pay that much attention to how he looked; all eyes would be on her—his queen. A small smile passed across his lips as he imagined what exactly she would be wearing —before another blast of air wiped it away. He quickly shoved his hands into his coat's pockets. With a determined look on his face, he started to make his way towards her front door._

_          The only sound that penetrated the still night was the crunching noise his feet made as he slowly walked up the zigzagged gravel walkway that led to her house. As he got closer to his destination, his heart started to beat faster; he could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins._

_          When he reached her porch, he inhaled suddenly. The night's air was crisp and stung his lungs a bit. He didn't notice it though because he had, as his mother had predicted, forgotten his date's corsage. With a panicked about-face, he retreated back to the limo. _

_          Forgoing the meandering walkway, he cut through the grass that was already moist with the night's dew. He grimaced as he realized that the sides of his glossy dress shoes were soaked. He reached the black limousine and opened the door to reveal the box right where he had left it. The two other passengers –a blond and a brunette- were passionately involved(1) and hadn't noticed his hasty return._

_          He mutely grabbed the box and prayed they would be done when he returned again with his date. As the girl moaned for the third time, he softly closed the door and tried to collect his thoughts. _

***

          A loud beeping noise ripped through his skull, pulling Jimmy out of his dreams. As he groggily came to his senses, he realized that an alarm was going off, and that he faintly smelled smoke. 

          When there was smoke there was usually...FIRE!!!

          He hadn't turned off the oven, and grease from the meatloaf had probably caught on fire. The thought woke him all the way up and he sat up with a start. This proved to be a mistake because his lungs were instantly filled with smoke, making him practically cough up his left lung. His eyes started to burn and tear up as he realized the entire apartment was filled with smoke.

          Images of a fire safety class popped into his head and Jimmy remembered that he was supposed to stay close to the ground. He rolled off the couch and hit the floor with a thud. He turned over so his stomach was on the ground and he pulled the blanket over his head. It wasn't wet, but it would help a little, at least.

          He frantically tried to think of what else they had taught him in the class, but nothing else came to him. Well, nothing but the phrase "Stop, Drop and Roll!" He wasn't on fire though. Wait, was he? A furious examination proved fruitless and Jimmy relaxed just a little.

          He army crawled around the couch, in the general direction of the kitchen. Jimmy couldn't see any orange flames in the darkness, but that didn't mean they weren't there. He continued his crawl into the kitchen, where he discovered a small grease fire in the oven, just as he had predicted. Smoke was pouring out the sides of the oven and a miniature inferno was glowing through the door, slightly illuminating the kitchen. 

          Jimmy inhaled into the blanket then held his breath. He quickly stood up and felt around for the sink. He found the nozzle and turned it on full blast. He submerged the blanket in the water until it was soaked. Jimmy fell to the floor again and breathed into the damp blanket. He coughed when some of the water went into his lungs, but shrugged it off and slid over towards the oven.

          He stood up again and turned off the oven—the smart thing to do ages ago. A hesitant had reached up and grasped at the handle. Jimmy pulled it open and jammed the wet blanket into the oven. It was basic chemistry... fire needed oxygen to survive so he would smother the fire, taking away its source. And Ms Hatzilaoks said that he never paid attention..!

          The fire did go out though, leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke. And the fire alarm. It had been beeping its earsplitting right the entire time, making Jimmy grimace and almost wish that it hadn't woken him up in the first place. He clapped his hands twice, turning on the apartment's stylish lighting arrangement. 

          Jimmy went over into the 'breakfast nook' and grabbed a chair. He set it up under the alarm and scrambled up onto it. After a few moments of aimless twiddling, he yanked the batteries out, finally silencing its blaring ring. He did the same for the other three alarms that were scattered around the apartment, until it was relatively quite again(2).

          He went around the apartment again, opening windows and turning on ceiling fans. Jimmy had to get the smoke out if he wanted to breathe properly... and the stench was horrible. It would cling to his clothes and hair and follow him around until he could wash _everything_. 

          When he had finished his third task, he moved onto the fourth, and probably the worse. Jimmy walked into the kitchen and tried to survey the damage. Well... it wasn't too bad. The oven was more than a little black, but that could be fixed with some serious scrubbing. It didn't look like the fire had spread around, so Jimmy let out a small sigh of relief. 

          It seemed like all he did was clean, now-a-days, he thought with another, more exasperated sigh as he went over to the sink to grab a scrubber brush and a bucket that he filled with water and soap. Well, clean and not sleep...

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(1) Kissing, mind you! (2) Yeah, I know somebody would have called the cops to report the fire alarm, because apartments aren't all that sound proof. That would have been boring to write, and to read, I'm sure.

Here's where I insert my thanks to the kind reviewers...

**pickledxwriter****(****x2): **Spinner is just so fun to write... especially when he's mad/not mad at Paige! We'll just have to see with whom Jimmy hooks up with... after all, who exactly was that mysterious girl he was going to take to the dance... muhaha!

**PsychoJo****: **Yeah! A double reviewer! But yes... J/H is really lame because they are like the only single people on the show. That's like saying 'Oh my goodness! Marco and Dylan got together! Who would have thought they would, considering they are the only gay characters?!'

**sister-cousin****: **I agree, more Jimmy/Liberty/Terri/Hazel/Toby/Kendra/other minor character fics!

**EvenAngelsFall22: ** Yes, can't wait until they come out with Degrassi on DVD. Then I won't be the N's slave-monkey. Seriously.

**Krzyblkgurl103: **Thanks for the compliment! Personally, I hate the way I write because it always takes so long to update...and I'm really lazy. But thanks for the tip, too!__

**StaceyF****: **Close, but no cigar. [The bubblegum kind, of course] 

**Next chapter... I'm finally going to move the plot away from the apartment! Gasp! Yes... this MonsterFic is going to meander on over to Degrassi!**


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